Page 34 of Baby Bump for the Mafia Boss

“I feel so close to you.” She snuggles her face into the crook of my neck.

“You are. Or rather, I was even closer, and I will be again soon,” I reply into her hair.

She giggles, and it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve heard. I could get drunk on that sound.

“It’s the same for me. I’ve never been as close to anyone as I am to you,” I add after a moment. “There will never be anyone for me like you are. I meant it when I said that you’re the love of my life, and I want us to get married. You know that, don’t you?”

She sighs contently, and nods. “I love the ring. Thank you.”

“I bought that one because it reminded me of our first night together. The gold and red of the fire. The snowflakes are the diamonds.” It’s absurdly sentimental, but apparently that’s who I am for her. A man who would do anything.

“I love it. And you. But why did you propose before you told me you knew the baby was yours?” I feel more than see her face crease with confusion.

It’s difficult to put into words. “I wanted you to know they’re not conditional on each other. I love you, and I need you to be my wife. The fact this baby is mine biologically is a bonus. I was going to propose anyway. I was waiting because I didn’t want to scare you with too much too soon.”

“What, like, getting pregnant the first time we sleep together?” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Too much too soon, like being in love with you for four years before I finally think to ask you to marry me,” I respond dryly.

She goes still. “You really meant that?”

I manage to let go of her side to catch her chin in my fingers and tilt her face up to look into mine. “You have no idea how I’ve wanted you all this time. I’ve been in agony.”

“It’s been the same for me,” she whispers shyly.

I drop a kiss onto her sweet mouth. “But now we’re together. Now there’s no holding back, because you’re pregnant, and going to marry me, and there are no secrets left between us.”

She blinks. “Well. Talking of secrets. You must have seen the rest of the test results, and you said ‘she’, earlier.”

A grin spreads across my face. “We’re having a girl.”

“Oh my god.” She giggles and kicks her feet. Seeing her joy bubbles more up in me, and I don’t know how long we spend looking into each other’s eyes and then kissing and gazing again. It’s as though Stephie needs to check, over and over, that I love her and we’re having a baby girl. Together.

And I’m happy to reassure her.

“My girls.” I lay my hand on her belly.

“One more secret.” Stephie’s expression goes serious. “What would you have done if the baby hadn’t been yours?”

“Princess, you know.” It’s cute that she thinks that no secrets means I’m going to tell her things that would traumatise her. She doesn’t need to know that I would have cut the balls off any man who had touched her. That’s hardly a healthy basis for a relationship. Better that she has deniability.

Her brows twitch together.

“I’d have protected what’s mine, Stephie. Whoever the father had been, you and this baby are bothmine.”

18

STEPHIE

Six months later

It’s the early hours of the morning, and I wake to find the bed empty. I know immediately what has happened. Dane has our baby, Patricia, with him. He’s a light sleeper and often gets up for feeds. He’s so good like that. He wakes for nearly every one, sometimes getting a bottle for our little daughter and warming it up, and other times bringing her to me to nurse while I’m half asleep before taking her back to her crib.

I listen, trying to hear where Dane and Patricia are. There’s nothing for a second, and then I tilt my head, because I swear… Is thatsinging?

Rolling silently out of bed, I pull on a top and pick up my phone. I stalk slowly downstairs, and peek around the kitchen door, which is ajar.

Dane is singing a nursery rhyme, I realise with a chuckle.